


Merry Flipping Christmas

by Bratty_lil_Angel



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-03 18:36:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8725804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bratty_lil_Angel/pseuds/Bratty_lil_Angel
Summary: No good deed went unpunished, and Charlie should've known saving a wanted criminal would only bring her grief.





	1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: So, this is gonna be a quick Christmas Fic. It's been so long since I've written, and its been kinda nice writing again. Though I have found I've been making some mistakes - stupid title for my other ongoing fic, poor choice of surname for OC as well – it's starting to become a little easier each week. Hope you all enjoy.

Chapter One

Once Upon a Time, Charlie Donovan gave a shit. She'd been one of those types - you know the spazes who loved the holidays - embracing mankind and geeking out on randomly placed elves and mistletoe. Black Fridays, decked out Christmas trees, and gag worthy holiday romcoms, were all part of her holiday itinerary. But now – well it was easy to say the blinders were off. The holidays were basically like a knife to the heart, reminding her of the life she once had, should have had . . . before.

Before S.T.A.R. labs had ruined her and her family's lives. Before her future had been ripped out of her grasp and epically destroyed in the most unfair and ironic way. And before it became crystal clear that the good guy – well they didn't always win. In fact, as far as Charlie could see, the universe took immense pleasure putting the screws to the really good people.

But the bad ones, those who fed on the weak and harmed with little disregard, they seemed to slip through the cracks with barely a scratch. Surprising little tidbit, not all 'bad guys' could be found in seedy bars and knocking over liquor stores. They could also be found sitting around conference tables planning on creative ways to screw over the 'little man', or at their work stations in some privately-owned labs creating whatchamacallit gizmos that would eventually blow up and wreaked havoc on a city of ignorant innocents.

Another nifty tidbit, the bad guys didn't care if it was Christmas either. People basically just sucked.

"Sweetie, don't take this the wrong way, but you look like crap."

"Makes sense, seeing that I feel like roadkill." Dropping her purse onto the bar top, Charlie frowned at the lingering customers around the stage area, before turning back to the bleach blonde behind the bar. "Also, explains the sucky tips."

"I think you'll find it has nothing to do with the dark circles around your eyes, but the time of year." Daphne, a retired striper who couldn't seem to leave the night life behind, nodded to the group of men with a sour look on her make-up caked face. "It's the same every freaking year. These jack wades come in here after their uptight Christmas parties, thinking the strip club is come kind of damn petting zoo. Do they spend any money? No. Because their anal-retentive wives analyze the banking statements, making sure every last penny is accounted for. And don't get me started on how no one seems to carry cash anymore."

"Good to know." Turning to see if the crowd had thinned out, Charlie muttered under her breath and took a seat at the bar. Sure, her job basically blew, and never in a million years had she thought her life would get to a point where she would need to twirl around a pole to make ends meet. "Do they also feel closing time is optional?"

"If you were married to a Pinterest-pill-popping addict, and had snotty nosed spawn who needed a safe room every time the wind changed, would you want to go home?" Grabbing another glass, Daphne smirked.

"There's a myth out there that a person needs to date before being saddled with a life sucking spouse and life destroying kids." Trying to match the older woman's snark, Charlie winced at how nearly pathetic she sounded. "Or so I heard."

"Yeah, this job can really turn you off of relationships." Pausing for a moment, Daphne eyed the younger woman critically. "Sweetheart let me give you some free advice."

"Men are scum and life basically sucks?" Pulling her strawberry blonde hair back into a ponytail, Charlie saw that the other woman was being serious. Ever since joining the staff of Diamonds the older woman had been relatively nice to her, and had passed on a few needed tips of the trade. "Shoot."

"This place, what you do, it's just a job, a paycheck. These idiots who show up, they're walking bank accounts, and it's your task to syphon as much as you can from them. But don't let this lifestyle take control of you, cause it'll take you down a road that will devour you. Stay off the drugs, don't let the men touch, and for the love of God don't think your gonna meet your future husband here. That's how some of these girls get trapped. You, your smarter than that, I can tell. Use this job to get on your feet and get the hell out." The advice sounded legit, and Charlie fidgeted on the bar stool under the other woman's intense stare.

"Trust me, this isn't exactly what I discussed with my High School guidance counselor." Feeling the bitter feel of failure churning in her stomach, Charlie lowered her gaze.

"I won't lie, you got dealt a crap hand." Returning to her task, Daphne wrung out the washcloth. "How's your Grams?"

Hating the lump that grew at the thought of her Grams, and feeling like a big fat baby for wanting to crawl off to a dark corner and cry, Charlie forced on a brave face. "She's having a good week."

"And that baby sister of yours?"

"Oh, she basically hates me." Drawing circles on the newly washed bartop, Charlie could feel her left eye starting to twitch. "I've ruined her life because I need her help at night with Grams, that she's the only person at school who's not going to the winter formal."

"Let me guess, Rick the Dick wouldn't give you the night off so she could go?" Daphne snorted.

"Laughed me out of the office."

"Someday your sister will see everything you did to keep a roof over her head, food in her stomach, and clothes on her ungrateful ass."

"I don't know, she seems pretty determined to make me as miserable as possible." Trying to pull the conversation away from the path of doom and gloom, Charlie carelessly shrugged her shoulders. "Which makes her happy, so there's that I guess." Looking over to where the men were still gathered, she let out a frustrated sigh. "Can they just leave? It makes me nervous having these bottom feeders lingering around. I know it's stupid, but I don't even want them knowing what kind of car I drive."

"Where you parked?"

"About a block away on Pine Street."

"Have one of the guys let you out the back."

"Yeah, walking down a dark, creepy, not to mention nasty alley sounds like a safer option."

Letting out a bark of laughter, Daphne shook her head. "Up to you darlin, but it doesn't look like Rick's kicking those fools out anytime soon."

Turning back, Charlie let out a moan when her eyes took in her jerk boss at one of the tables, drinking with the customers. "I hate my life."

"If it makes you feel safer, you can take my mace." The offer was tempting, and basically all Charlie wanted was to go home, crawl into bed, and sleep until Spring. Though in reality, her insomnia would kick in to keep her company for the night. With the possibility of sleep on the line, Charlie knew her ability to make decisions was under serious consideration as she pondered just how bad it'd be walking just a block.

"I'm going to regret this, and will probably end up spraying myself in the face, but I can't stay around here all night."

On the bright side, the alley was better lit than she'd envisioned, the down side to that though was that it just meant she had better lighting to enhance all the reasons she should turn back around and bang on the club's back door until one of the bouncers let her in. The stink radiating off the dumpsters was enough force her to keep walking forward, as thoughts of a long hot shower flittered through her head. Then there was the mushy feeling asphalt beneath her feet, which she was pretty certain wasn't slush from the recent snow fall. It was going to take a week to feel clean again.

Keeping her eyes trained forward, she tried to pretend she was in no way doing what was probably just one of the many stupid things she'd been accumulating over the past two years. It would be one thing if she'd made the choices that had put her on this path, but she hadn't. Her life, before S.T.A.R. freaking labs, had been one of structure, hard work and determination. All it'd taken was one night, one fluke accident, and everything in her world had been turned upside down.

First, it'd been her Grams getting sick, with some freaky mutated form of what the doctors could only guess was cancer. While all the doctors were left scratching their heads, the jerk offs at Central City Pharmaceuticals clued in on the link between the explosion, and the new mystery illness which was being found in babies and the elderly. It hadn't taken them long to find a treatment, but being the money hungry douchebags they were, slapped a hefty price tag on their miracle cure. So basically, unless a patient had a real understanding insurer willing to pay ten grand for a treatment, had an extra 10k, or knew someone with nifty healing powers, they eventually died. Painfully.

Of course, the little glitch with knowing a metahuman with healing powers was that it didn't technically heal the condition, just bought the person more time.

Then there had been – coming to a complete standstill, her heart skipping a painful beat inside her chest as a shadow to her right moved just enough to catch her attention from wandering thoughts. The longer she stood frozen in what she prayed was a puddle of slush, the surer she was that she could see the outline of a boot peeking out from behind a dumpster. As her brain started to return to somewhat normal capacity, it urged her to run as fast as she could, and not look back until she was safely locked away inside her car. Executing the plan didn't work out so well, seeing how she was still in the same location, three minutes later.

Sucking in a deep breath, while forcing one foot in front of the other, Charlie forced herself to move. The closer she got to the shadowy outline, the surer it was indeed a boot and unfortunately it appeared to be attached to a leg. After that she knew it went without saying an entire body would follow. Why couldn't it just be a random boot?

Moving as quietly as she could, she spared a brief glance as she passed the dumpster, and nearly cried in relief when the person appeared to be asleep. Feeling as though she was scott free, she froze again when her eyes fell onto the smeared bloody handprint on the industrial green of the dumpster. Her glance trailed to the form still hidden by the shadows and fought her instinct to ensure the individual was okay. Hadn't she learned already that no good deed went unpunished? What she needed to just keep walking, get in her car and drive home.

Definitely not inching closer to get a better look.

It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust, and as her the person took shape she knew without a doubt God or someone up there hated her. A lot. Because it was the only explanation as to why Leonard Snart, Central Cities most wanted criminal was sitting there before her in a pool of his own blood.

Standing up way quicker than she should've, Charlie did the first smart thing she'd done all night and moved away from the wanted criminal. "This isn't happening." Lifting her head up, to stare at the smog filled sky, she couldn't help but yell. "I really don't think this is funny, and between you and me – you suck."

Turning her attention back to where Leonard Snart lay prone, she fumed and stomped her foot in a mix of anger and frustration. "I don't owe you anything, and honestly you wouldn't give me the time of day if our situations were reversed. So don't take this the wrong way, but I just don't have it in me. It's not you, well yeah perhaps it is just a little bit, but its mostly me."

Taking a step back, and then another she turned her back on the dying man and made it at least three more steps before a child sized tantrum took over her feet as she kicked and stomped until the balls and tips of her toes ached. With one last yell, that echoed off the brick alley walls, she spun back to him and moved quickly to kneel by his side.

"If you wake up and shoot me I'm gonna be pissed." Taking in his face, she tried to ignore the fact he wasn't hard on the eyes, she moved her eyes down his slouched torso. His thick, fur lined winter jacket covered way too much, and with an overburdened sigh her fingers went to the zipper. "Sure, hope you still respect me in the morning."

Once she could move his body enough to maneuver the jacket off she found the issue, well about ten issues to be exact. "This is the last time I ever use the back exit into a freaking alley." Peeling the blood-soaked shirt from his skin, she let out a long whistle. "Someone really hates you."

Placing a hand over the first entry wound, Charlie tried hard not to think about how unsanitary it was, and concentrated instead on the metal objects inside Snart's body. With a deep breath in and then out, she let the fog take over her mind and soon the bullet was in the palm of her hand. Fighting against the inevitable vertigo, Charlie used squeezed her eyes shut until the world stopped going wonky.

Over and over she carefully extracted the bullets from his body, until the last one was removed. "Hard part is over, for you I guess, another minute and you'll be good as new."

This time she envisioned the damage done inside, the torn muscles, broken bones, arteries, organs, anything really that had been shredded by ten little slugs. When she was ready, she moved his body to lean forward and placed both hands palm down upon his skin. Soon her fingers tingled, which moved quickly to her palms, making them almost itch.

The effort was intense, and the vertigo was nearly enough to make her sick. Feeling the damage healing, Charlie fought against the tide that was threatening to pull her under. When at last the outer wound, itself was closed, Charlie felt darkness take over, and this time she welcomed it.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be posted last week, but my poor baby pup pup hurt his foot and I had my hands full. So the chapter is long, I didn't edit as much as I should have, but I hope you all enjoy!

There were several things Leonard Snart hated - besides his father, Flash and the CCPD - being treated like a common shmuck was one of them. Not that he was ready to admit it now, or ever, but perhaps his midnight stroll down the back alley hadn't been one of his most – thought out plans. But he never considered, perhaps due to his slightly inflated ego, that anyone would have the nerve to attack him, to steal from him.

But someone had, and worse, he'd been taken out from behind. It was humiliating and he was going to make whoever had the nerve to attack and steal from him pay. He may have made an annoying little agreement with the Red Twit, but there were more ways to exact revenge, more creative ways – and he was a very creative sort of guy.

What he could remember from the night before, was grabbing a drink at the Ice House. It'd been an impromptu stop, after finding Diamonds a tad overcrowded to his liking. He'd been in the mood to celebrate the success of the most recent heist, he had decided one drink wouldn't hurt before meeting up with a contact who was the only person he trusted to fence his newly acquired gems. He'd used the back door to the alley when a few 'friends' showed up, not wanting to attract their attention, and that was it.

Now he was a proud owner of a major headache that started behind his left eye, traveled to the base of his skull, and thumped unpleasantly, instead of pockets lined with cash. Oh, and he'd found an unconscious woman, covered in blood, laying on top of him. It was just a peach of a day.

"Still out?" The sound of heavy boot steps against metal grate came from behind, Leonard gave up his post of glaring at the lifeless girl and turned toward his partner.

"As it appears." Circling the chair he'd secured the annoyance to, he scrutinized her with a less than thrilled expression. Somewhere in that strawberry blonde head held the answers he wanted, and he was finding his already limited amount of patience dwindling at an amazing rate. Apparently waking up in a filthy alley, with his portion of the take missing put him in a foul mood.

"She's kinda cute, for a ginger, but really stinks." Raising a spoon from the large bowl of cereal in his beefy hand, Mick made a face.

"Well I did find her passed out in an alley." Leonard frowned as he sauntered over to a makeshift desk and leaned against it while crossing his arms over his chest. "And I believe once the blood is washed from her hair she's more of a strawberry blonde."

With a grunt, Mick rolled his eyes and shoved another spoon full of sugar in his mouth. "Same thing, she still stinks though."

With a put-upon sigh, Leonard pinched his nose before regarding his partner. "Not really part of the big picture Mick. My bag went missing, you know, the bag with our portion from the job last night. Not to mention the present I picked up for Lisa."

"We could beat it out of her." Mick offered in his own special way of not really helping.

"Should we do that before or after she wakes up?" Leonard quipped, as a smirk grew on his face. "I'll keep that in mind. But I was going to go for a different route."

"Maybe she's one of them metahumans." Mick said around a mouthful of food. "Wouldn't it be something if she could melt our faces off with just a look?"

"Yeah, wouldn't that be something?" Shaking his head at his friend's apparent excitement, Leonard spared a quick glance at their guest. "I doubt we have much to worry about, seeing how she was out cold on top of me."

His cereal forgotten momentarily, Mick looked over at him in confusion. "So, if you don't think she's dangerous, why'd you tie her up?"

"Do I think she's the one who got one up on me? No," Studying the girl like she was some kind of fascinating bug, Leonard snorted. "Because I doubt my crushed ego would've allowed me to continue on." Pushing off the desk he moved until he was directly in front of her and crouched down. Placing a finger under her chin, he nudged her chin up so he could get a better look. "I do think she knows exactly what happened, who did it, and more importantly where my bag is. The tying her up part – let's just say its added incentive for her to spill everything she knows, as fast as she can."

"And if she don't know anything?" Digging back into the now soggy cereal, Mick eyed Charlie, not appearing to be overly impressed with what he saw.

"I suppose I'll cross that proverbial bridge when I get there." Disgruntled he really hadn't planned any further than getting his hostage back to the loft - and taking the world's longest hot shower - Leonard stood up gracefully and shot Mick a dirty look. "Don't suppose you've had any luck tracking down our associates from last night?"

"I'm eating, then I'll look for 'em."

"Mick." Trying hard not to sound as though he were talking to a three-year-old, Leonard swallowed the growl of frustration curdling in his throat, and counted to ten. It wasn't Mick's fault he'd woken up in a puddle of blood and filth, feeling as though he'd had a building dropped on him. Nor had it been his partner's fault that a half-frozen stranger had been passed out over him. A stranger, who by the way, was the only possible link as to why his favorite jacket and new navy blue sweater had ten holes that ironically appeared to be from bullets. Holes that were caked in dried blood. And though his clothing held a very special place in his heart, what he really wanted to know, was how his clothing showed signs of what should've been his ultimate end. Oh, and where in the hell his bag was.

So yeah, he wasn't in a great freaking mood.

"Mick." Repeating himself a tad bit calmer, Leonard fixed his friend with an exasperated glare. "The sooner we get this tied up, the sooner we can leave Central City for that little ski village in the Rockies."

With a wistful look on his face Mick sighed. "I love Ski Bunnies."

"Who doesn't?" Leonard smirked. "But we'll be stuck here, Bunny free, if that bag isn't found."

A fierce expression crossed Mick's face. "I'm on it."

"Oh Mick." Before his friend and partner could make it out the door, Leonard called him back. "Get in touch with Nibbles, see is she can hack into the businesses with cameras on the alley, see if we can speed this along."

"Do I have to? That broad creeps me out." Mick made a face, looking almost uncomfortable at the thought. "I think she has it out for me."

"That's because she does." Leonard said, his tone mocking. "Apparently, she takes offense to being called a broad, babe, chick, girl or hottie. She's one of those progressive females."

"Well, what in the hell should I call her?" Mick's thick brow lowered in agitation.

"I really don't care, as long as she's looking into what the hell happened in that alley last night."

"Fine." Mick grunted as he left the room. "But it's dames like her that confuse men."

With an eye roll, Leonard watched as Mick strode out the door before turning back to his guest. "One down, one to go." Pushing up the sleeves of his dark jersey, he took in the young woman in front of him. She'd been out for longer than he'd anticipated, and as loathe as he was to admit it, he was starting to wonder if perhaps she needed medical care, not slip knots securing her arms and feet to a chair.

Moving to where he'd tossed her purse and jacket, he decided he could start getting some answers by poking around inside the large black bag. Like most females, she seemed to be under the impression it was imperative to carry every odd and end around with them. As if there would be some sort of world ending emergency requiring a traveling sewing kit, dental floss, and receipt from a decade prior to save mankind.

Bypassing the tampons and quickly making a grab for the wallet, Leonard dropped the purse in haste. "Charlotte Grace Donavon." Looking over the wallet to the young woman he tilted his head to the side. He supposed the name fit, what with her slender, graceful frame. "So, tell me, what is a girl from Leawood doing in an alley in City Central?"

The pieces didn't fit.

Typically, he enjoyed a good puzzle, but something about the girl before him rubbed him the wrong way. His gut was telling him something bad was in the air, but the longer he took her in he couldn't see how such a little thing could be a danger to him. Narrowing his eyes in mistrust, he went back to her discarded purse and upended the entire thing. With a shake of his head he stared down at the items when a lanyard caught his attention. Picking it up, he stared at the badge attached.

"Impressive." Looking over his shoulder, he felt as though one missing piece was within his grasp. "Student nurse at Central City Hospital." Turning back to the object in his hand, Leonard studied the picture on the I.D. He'd been right, her hair was more strawberry than back alley dirt – not that it mattered.

Dropping the item down his eyes landed on a small black pouch secured with a drawstring. Picking it up he pulled on the strings and opened it. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Pulling out the wad of bills, he let out a long whistle. "There are only a few reasons a girl would have a roll of bills like this." His eyes gleamed as he spun dramatically on his heel and analyzed his captive with a new eye.

"Tell me Charlotte, are you play a naughty little nurse on the side?" His sneer slipped when a quiet moan came from his captive. Shoving the money back into the bag and tossing it over his shoulder he sighed. "About time."

Waiting for her to fully come to, Leonard ran through a few variations he could use to extract the necessary information. Usually, cold, calculated, and scary worked wonders. If she recognized him, he could work on her fears to ensure quick results. It was all about finding out who was stupid enough to attack him, and finding his bag.

It was almost like he could sense the exact second she came fully awake, and Leonard found himself almost holding his breath as he braced himself for inevitable tears and pleading. They would eventually fade, as anger took over and empty threats were tossed his way. He hated the tears, as any healthy male would, so he honestly hoped she got to the anger part quickly.

The first thing Charlie noticed was that her limps were having extreme difficulty in moving. The second thing she became conscious of, was the horrid stank radiating off her. It took her a few more seconds to realize she had awoken to a whole new level of trouble. Struggling to raise her head, she swallowed down a totally inappropriate giggle when her eyes landed on one pissed off looking Leonard Snart.

She saved his lousy life, and he ties her up as a thank you. Seemed totally rational, normal – in bizzaro world. Which apparently now was her new zip code.

"Seriously?" Tilting her head back, Charlie glared up at the ceiling, to where she assumed the gods where laughing hysterically down at her. "This is the best you got?" The movement made her head spin, but she didn't really care. Looking back down, her eyes landing on Leonard Snart's impassive expression, then falling to the ropes securing her wrists. With a frustrated groan, she fought uselessly against the restraints.

Leonard watched with a mixture of fascination and humor, as the girl had a complete melt down. In all his years of being a down right bastard, he'd seen many differing reactions from his advisories, anger, fear, absolute loathing, but nothing like this. There hadn't been an ounce of fear in her eyes when she'd awoken. And even better – no tears. Her tantrum lasted only a few seconds, but when she was done, her cinnamon colored eyes met his gaze once more.

"Done? Or should I grab a snack?" Once again, he found himself intrigued by her reaction, as a deep blush inched its way up her slender neck to pool on her cheeks. When she remained silent, and tantrum free, he continued. "So, here's how it's going to go, Charlotte -," Taking note of the face she made at the sound of her name, Leonard tucked that little tidbit away. "As soon as you tell me what I want to know, you're free to leave."

Letting his words sink in, he moved closer, until the tip of his boots scraped the legs of the chair. Leaning in close, ensuring he invaded her personal bubble, he gave her a smoldering glare. "You lie to me, well Charlotte, let's just say it'll put you on my naughty list. And you really don't want to know what I do to people who are on my naughty list."

Staring into her eyes, he waited until that trace of fear flickered. It took a little longer than he appreciated, bruising his ago just a little, but there was a flicker of unease, and he took it as a win. Making a face and moving away, he returned to where he'd been snooping through her personal belongings and used the table to lean against. "The added incentive, the sooner you're free the sooner you can bathe."

Another flash of something crossed her pinkened face. "Do I have to guess I know what you're talking about? Or are you going to ask me a question anytime soon?"

Amazed her voice didn't crack under the intense, gut wrenching fear that was taking over her body, Charlie tried to hold onto the anger. It was the only way she was going to keep from crying over how unfair the entire situation was. Apparently, karma points worked in reverse for her. Instead of earning her a good return from the universe, she was rewarded a plate of crap, while tied to a chair.

Her question seemed to have rubbed the high and mighty Leonard Snart the wrong way, and though she'd probably pay for that too, she didn't couldn't gather the energy to care. She'd saved his life damnit, and while saving one of the most dangerous men in Central City was probably a sign she was hitting rock bottom, he owed it to her. Didn't he?

And as sick as it was, she wasn't afraid of what the man in front of her was going to do to her. No, that would be smart, and the last year of questionable decisions was proof enough she should always do the opposite of what she wanted to do. No, Charlie was terrified he was going to find out the truth. That she had healed him the night before, with powers that were literally forced on her.

Freaking S.T.A.R. labs.

The worst thing would be for a criminal like him to find out the truth. She'd learned the hard way how dangerous it was to have the power to heal. Perhaps if she hadn't been so narcissistic about her ability when she realized she could save lives with just a touch of her hands, she would've seen the potential danger. It wasn't until a nosey nurse began to suspect that reality had set in. Saving lives was big money, and people would do drastic things to save the people they loved.

As far as powers went, hers were perhaps the most dangerous to have. Which was irony in motion.

It didn't take long for her to figure out she couldn't keep working in a hospital. Not with the potential of being discovered, and eventually placing herself and her family at risk. So, with only a few months to go in the student nurse program, she dropped out. Telling herself daily it was for the best.

Leonard had to admire her backbone, but mostly he was relieved she wasn't a crier. "Do you know who I am?"

Her blank face shifted into an expression of 'no duh'. "Leonard Snart."

"My reputation precedes me." Leonard's smirk grew. Did it ever, and Charlie wasn't about to let his calm façade fool her. Now that he wasn't dying I a pool of blood and god only knew what else, she could almost feel the danger radiating off him. Like most many dangerous creatures, Leonard Snart was almost hypnotizing with his ice blue eyes, strong jaw, and muscular body. Even his voice possessed the ability to lure a person into a false sense of security.

"Your mug shot is at the Central City Post Office - the lines are really long." Her shrug was slightly hindered by her arms being tied down, but seeing the slight flare of his nostrils made her feel slightly victorious. "Was that your question? Did I answer you correctly?"

He was going to strangle her, and a small evil part of him was wondering what it would take to make her cry. "What were you doing in the alley?"

"I was trying to avoid creepy men and get to my car. At the time the alley seemed like the safest option. Guess I was wrong."

"A little advice? When trying to avoid creepy men, avoid passing out on them." Sending her a brittle smile, Leonard leaned in again, almost bumping his nose with hers. "You never know if they'll respect you in the morning."

Jerking her head back, her words from the night before invading her thoughts, she frantically searched his expression to see if maybe he hadn't been as dead to the world as she thought. Not able to tell either way, Charlie couldn't help but press back in the chair. "Noted."

"So, while you were failing to avoid creepy men, what exactly happened?"

"I don't know."

"That's a lie." Clucking his tongue, Leonard shook his head in mock disappointment. "Charlotte, don't take this the wrong way, but you're a horrible liar. You've got a tell, sweetheart. So, let's try this again, what did you see in that alley?"

Taking a moment to really access her situation, and perhaps a few ticks of a second of what exactly her tell was, she wondered if she could tell him enough without blabbing everything. "You were passed out, next to a dumpster."

"And?" His expression started to look slightly put upon, as he motioned for her to continue.

"There was no bag, no one else, nothing."

"And." Placing a hand on each of her arms and leaning in, Leonard smirked when at last there was a flash of fear in the girl's eyes.

"Hate to interrupt." A deep gravelly voice came from behind, as the sound of heavy boots thudded from behind.

"Little busy here." Leonard said unflinching, his eyes pinned to his captives, almost trying to mentally pry the answers from her.

"She's still a pain in the ass, but that chick has skills."

"Mick -," Grinding his back teeth together, Leonard shot his eyes to where Mick stood. "Not now."

"Did you know she was able to hack the feed, and send it to your phone without having to be here?"

Without tearing his eyes from the girl, Leonard stood and pulled his phone from his pocket. "Last chance. If I find out you had anything to do with last night – well let's just say I hope you like pain – and not the fun kind."

Not completely understanding what was going on, but knowing she probably wouldn't want to find out what kind of pain Leonard Snart found to be 'not fun', Charlie felt her mouth go dry and an uneasy feeling twist inside her stomach. What she didn't like one bit, was the sudden dark scowl that took over his face as he watched silently, just a few feet away.

Whatever had been sent to him, was making Leonard very unhappy. Charlie watched as he jabbed the screen again, and his scowl reached his brows this time. On the third jab a low growl escaped his chest, Charlie felt a cold sweat break out on the back of her neck, and nausea creep up her throat.

Looking as though he wanted to throw his phone at the nearest wall, Leonard shoved it instead into his pocket before looking at the giant who had moved to the other side of the room, while cocking his head to the side and walking out of the room.

As soon as she was sure she was alone, Charlie fought against the ropes as though her life depended on it, because she'd never been as certain as she was now that her life was in serious jeopardy. There was no doubt who that giant of a man was, Mick Rory, and as much as her life sucked – she wasn't ready to call it quits yet. Not like this. Not by a man who looked like a vengeful angel, and a freak who liked to set things on fire.

"You're gonna hurt yourself if you keep it up." A bored tone came from behind, as Leonard came from behind her. Gone was the angry expression, and where his renewed calm should've put her at ease, his ability to turn off his emotions really creeped her out. "Thirsty?"

Yes, her stranger danger siren was going off double time. "I'm good." She knew it came out like a croak, and hated the mocking way his eyes twinkled.

"Its water – you know H2O, aqua - in a sealed bottle. Not a vial of poison."

"Seriously, I'm good."

"Charlotte – be a big girl and drink – we've got a lot to talk about."

Watching as he twisted the cap off the bottle in his hand, Charlie shook her head and was about to let him know she was all talked out. But he seemed to have something else in mind, as he closed the distance between them and cupped her jaw to tilt her head back. She struggled against him, until he took the upper hand and pinched her mouth shut.

She nearly chocked on the cool liquid, but surprised herself by being able to swallow it down before drowning. Soon he pulled the damned bottle away and Charlie could breathe again. "Done acting like a drama queen now that you see you're not dying."

Recapping the water and placing it on the floor next to her foot, he turned his attention to the ropes at her wrists. She watched in stunned silence, not sure what exactly was going on. When he was done with one arm, he went to the other.

"Let me give you one last bit of advice. Girls like you should avoid alleys, and places like Diamonds." When both her arms were free he made quick work of the ropes on her feet, before standing up before her and taking a huge step back. "Oh, and you definitely should avoid taking drinks from strange men, you never know -."

Whatever else he said went fuzzy, as Charlotte struggled to keep the world from spinning off its axis. All the while cursing Leonard Snart while slipping back under.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note- Trying really hard to get this finished before the end of the year, so if you're reading my other fic it'll start again at the beginning of the year. Hope everyone is enjoying the story.

"Shocked you showed up." Gritting her teeth at the condescending huff only a pissed off fifteen-year-old could make, Charlie wrapped her fingers tightly around the steering wheel while forcing herself to breath.

"Cory." Eyeing her little sister Charlie felt herself torn between desperately wanting to find the mystical way to heal the chasm between them, and wanting to chock the life out of the little snot. "I already told you -."

"Yeah, the car died." With an eye roll – which may possibly be her last – Cory huddled down in the seat with a petulant expression cemented on her face. "The cars a piece of shit, it's always breaking down. You haven't stayed out an entire night and most of the day because of it. So why do you keep lying?"

It'd been four freaking days since she'd woken up alone just blocks away from where she'd parked her car the previous night. Her relief at being alive had been short lived when she'd looked at her cell phone and realized it was five o'clock and well past the time of being well and truly screwed. The car breaking down had been a sloppy excuse, but she hadn't had the energy for any creative thinking. She'd been mentally and physically drained, from healing that ungrateful jerk Leonard Snart, and not having slept well for days.

"What do you want me to say Cory? That I was abducted by aliens who probed me all night until they realized I wasn't a superior specimen and let me go?"

"Well I hope they wore protection." Still unrelenting, her sister turned her head to stare out the passenger side window. "The last thing we need is for you to give birth to a litter of alien hybrids. The car breaking down is more believable, like anything on this planet or another would want to 'probe' you."

Knowing they were at the edge of having yet another long and drawn out fight, Charlie decided to throw in the towel and just let her little sister simmer in whatever hate cocoon she'd wrapped herself in. The drive home didn't take long, and Charlie contemplated only a few times just how bad of a sister she would be if she just kicked Cory out of the car. It wasn't like she wouldn't slow down – slightly.

The tension was so thick inside the car she was more than happy when Cory slipped out before she turned off the ignition. With sad eyes, she watched as her baby sister stomped up the driveway and into the home they had grown up in. It hadn't always been like this, with her sister's simmering rage, that occasionally spewed over like lava hate bubbles in her direction. There were even days when she couldn't help but wonder if this new version of her sister was just inevitable teenage bullshit, or if the last two years had killed the adorable little girl she once had been.

Now it seemed no matter how hard she tried, her sister was determined to cast her as the villain.

The icing on the cake? She had three hours before she needed to be back at Diamonds, on her usual day off, for another fun filled night of total hell because Leonard Snart lived up to his title of King of Thieves by taking her night's worth of tips from her purse before dumping her unconscious body like a sack of rotten potatoes.

"I've got this." Blowing out a deep breath, and swallowing down an impending anxiety attack, Charlie gathered the meager groceries she'd picked up earlier and headed in.

"Grams?" Moving through the living room to the kitchen, Charlie stopped short nearly dropping her armload. "What are you doing?"

Turning from the stove, her Grams - the woman who had been in bed with aching feet a few hours before – gave her a look Charlie hadn't seen in years, the one that told her to stop being a twit. "What does it look like? Stop standing there with your mouth open Charlie Bean and set the table."

"You mean the table we haven't used in five years?" Pointing to the table in the corner of the room, Charlie approached her Grams slowly. Perhaps she was having a stroke. "You remember the last time we had a family dinner, right?"

"Do you plan on setting my kitchen on fire again Bean?" Her Grams asked dryly as she turned back to the pot of stew on the stove.

"I didn't mean to set it on fire the last time." She muttered under her breath as she decided to play along, Charlie moved to the cupboard.

"Use the good stuff." Her Grams instructed.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. "Why?"

"Don't play dense. I can't believe you didn't give me some warning." Stirring the stew, her Gram clucked her tongue as she shuffled to the sink.

"Gram what are you talking about?"

"Well your young man of course."

"My what?" Nearly dropping the plates, Charlie spun around.

"Do you have any idea how embarrassed I was, answering the door in my robe when he came a calling?"

"A calling?" Her brain couldn't catch up, and not matter how many times she blinked.

"We had a nice chat though." Sniffing at the pot, she added a few more shakes of pepper. "So incredibly handsome and interesting. And those intense blue eyes -."

"Oh, Grams what have you done?" It was amazing just how fast her concern for her Gram's mental health and her confusion as to what in the hell was going on seemed to instantly evaporate as absolute understanding slugged her in the gut.

"And he was such a gentleman as I just sat there in my robe and hair just a fright. The least I could do was invite him for supper."

Looking around frantically now, Charlie all but tossed the plates onto the counter. "Grams where is he?"

"I sent him down to your room."

"You did what?" Her feet already moving to the stairway.

"Well seeing how you just spent the entire night with him a few nights ago - don't look at me like Charlotte Grace."

"But I didn't –"Not bothering to correct her Grams now, Charlie raced down the steps into the basement she'd claimed as her 'apartment' when she'd started college a lifetime ago.

Her eyes scanned the outer room she used for a sitting room, she hurried to her bedroom and froze just inside the door. There propped up on her pillows, holding her stuffed hippopotamus Gus to his chest and smiling at her like the freaky Cheshire Cat, sat Leonard Snart.

"Darling, you're home."

"Out." Pointing to the door, Charlie's only instinct at that moment was to get the man before her out of her house and far away from her family.

"You're put out with me." He had the audacity to mock her, as he calmly watched her from hooded eyes. "Was it the roofie? It was, wasn't it?"

"I'm being serious, leave."

"You aren't even slightly interested as to why I'd come all the way to suburbia to see you?"

Her eyes wild, Charlie shook her head and moved to the bed to shove his boots off her clean comforter. "No! Not really. And just to be clear, if you ask me about your stupid bag one more time I may take a baseball bat to your head. So, get your filthy boots off my bed and leave."

"But Grams invited me to dinner." Leonard smirked as he tucked his arms behind his head and winked at her. "Between you and me, I think she has a crush on me."

Putting her hands over her face and resisting the urge to scream, Charlie rubbed at her face before dropping her hands down to her sides. "What do you want?"

"Well Charlotte -."

"Charlie."

Out of everything this seemed to force Leonard to pause, as he took time to inspect her face. "Actually, I like the way your nose scrunches when I call you Charlotte."

"I really don't like you."

"Tsh tsh tsh." Tossing Gus to the side, Leonard swung his legs off the bed. "Liar liar pants on fire. You liked me enough to save my life the other night." Putting his hands up, and wiggling his fingers all but had her snapping her mouth shut as bile rose up her throat.

"Want me to leave now?" A sly smile quirked at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, don't look at me like that, you'll give me a complex."

"What do you want?"

"So many things." Leonard sighed. "But nothing from you. I am here to get rid of this nasty feeling inside of me. As my sister enjoyed reminding me – I owe you for saving my life."

"You told your sister what I can do?"

"Not exactly – I showed her."

Closing her eyes, Charlie suddenly remembered the phone he'd been so intently looking at. "Yeah, that's so much better."

"You have nothing to worry about, she's a little occupied at the moment, tracking down her Christmas present." His features softened, before the sour look returned. "So, let's get this over with, what do you want."

"For you to leave." Charlie repeated, as she pointed to the door.

For just the briefest of seconds a genuine smile spread across his lips, and put an odd spark in his eyes.  
"At first I felt I was being generous by keeping your little secret. Of course, my life is worth so much more than that."

Narrowing her eyes, she watched him for just a second. "You felt guilty for taking my money and slipping me a roofie."

"One thing about me, I never feel guilty about stealing." His nostrils flared slightly. "But I hate feeling indebted to someone – a lot it seems. So I am at your disposal, and owe you one favor."

"A favor?"

"Maybe two - if you rub just right." He replied coyly.

Her cheeks felt as though they were on fire, but instead of allowing him to get the upper hand by making her feel uncomfortable, Charlie crossed her arms over her chest and tried to school her features into bland boredom. "And here I thought I was supposed to get three wishes for rubbing a lamp."

"Who said anything about a lamp?" Letting his words sink in, Leonard suppressed the urge to laugh at how easy it was to fluster the young woman in front of him.

He'd known there was something off about the petite woman. Perhaps off was the wrong word. Interesting – she was intriguing – for now. It wasn't just her looks. He wasn't a fool to let the outer trappings throw him off his game, he knew many angel faced young women who were rotten, right down to the core. The woman in front of him was different, not rotten on the inside, just slightly damaged, but stubbornly holding onto her inner goodness. That much he had figured out.

Plus, it was a hoot to bait her.

"What do you mean by favor?" A hum of astonished hope vibrated through her, but having been victim to too many beat downs in the last year, Charlie eyed the criminal wearily. A sane person would have called the police by this point. But they were past that point – right?

"You want me to spell it out for you?"

"I want to make sure I know what I am getting into by accepting favors from the Devil."

The bark of laughter that erupted from Leonard's mouth startled Charlie, making her take a step back. "Now you're comparing me to the Devil? Not when I had you tied to a chair?"

"Being held hostage by Leonard Snart is almost expected." Charlie defended herself, feeling foolish at his obvious mirth. "A favor from him? I can't help there's about a hundred different strings attached."

"Ah, you're not just a pretty face." Leonard hummed in appreciation. "Any other time – other offer – you would be wise to question my motives. I can't be trusted. But this -." His face grew pensive. "You saved my life, that I take very seriously. So, this is exactly what I mean by favor. I possess a certain skill set, one I am very, very good at. Any time you are in need of assistance – of any kind – I owe you a freebie. A once in a lifetime offer, no questions. You want a pretty, priceless bauble – all you need to do is ask. Or, if you need money, I can get you more than enough."

"And then what?"

"Then nothing." Shrugging his shoulders, Leonard held out his hands. "I go back to my life, and leave you to yours."

"No strings?"

"Only if you don't want them." He sneered, as he wiggled his brows suggestively.

"You're sick."

"It's a gift." Leonard fired back. "And don't pretend the thought isn't just a little intriguing."

"I just threw up in my mouth."

Rolling his eyes at her blatant attempt of being unaffected, Leonard pulled the conversation back to safer ground. "So about that favor. It's there whenever you need it. Take some time figuring out -."

"I want to you steal a vile of the Seraphim's Cure from Central City Pharmaceutical." The words poured off her tongue, and the silence that greeted her made her palms break out in a sweat.

"A girl who knows what she wants." Looking at her as though he was trying to figure out the world's most difficult puzzle, Leonard clucked his tongue a few more times before tilting his head to the side.

"Central City Pharmaceuticals has the most advance security systems on the market."

"I know."

"Their backup systems have back-up systems."

"I know."

"And the Seraphim's cure is their most coveted of all medical wonders."

"I know." Charlie ground out, tears of frustration threatening to gather in the corner of her eyes. "I know all of this. I know who created it, why it was created, and how flipping hard it is to get. You're the one who wanted me to name a favor. That's the only one I want."

"Charlotte, that's not a favor – that's a miracle." Leonard snorted at the idea.

"So, you can't do it."

"I didn't say that." He murmured. "Jobs like the one you're asking . . . they take time. I was kinda hoping this favor would be less consuming."

"Well you did say your life was worth a lot to you." Charlie snapped,

"Now don't get your panties in a twist." Running a hand over his stubbly head, he moved to the other side of the room, before pivoting and returning to his original spot. "It'll take at least five – maybe six months to pull everything together."

"No, that's not good enough." Charlie pushed. "It has to be before the new year." Shaking her head to the point she almost saw stars, she missed the startled look on Leonard's face.

"Sweetheart, you're cute, I'll give you that. Plus, I owe you for saving me. But what you're asking, it'd be a suicide mission. Why the short notice?"

"As of the first of January, they discontinue manufacturing it."

"Why would they do that?" His words were like a purr, and Charlie could almost swear she could see him trying to work the puzzle out in his head.

"Because anyone who needed it already coughed up the ten grand for the shot, the rest – well they're either dead or too far gone."

"Then ask me to rob a bank for the 10 grand and buy the cure, your Gram didn't look all that far gone to me."

"I – You know why I can't do that." When he didn't reply, she let out a sound that was stuck between a groan and a whine as he did nothing but stand by waiting for her to spell it out for him. "Because I -." Licking at her suddenly dry lips, Charlie hated how she'd been forced into a corner. "She shouldn't be alive."

"You've been healing her." As if he hadn't already known.

"I can't heal her." The words fell off her tongue before she could stop them, but once they were out it felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. No one else knew, because once she'd realized just how dangerous her powers were to have, she'd kept her mouth shut. "At first when she got sick, I was stupid enough to believe I cured her, but after three months the symptoms came back. Each time I used my healing on her the time between lessened. Now I heal her once a week. Some days are good . . . others – well they're not so good. Basically, I can't even buy the cure now, because I stopped taking her to the doctors and they probably think she's all but dead."

"So basically, the only way to help your Gram is this ten grand cure, that we can't buy, but I have to steal." Leonard watched as she nodded. "Further, instead of months to be able to come up with a careful plan, I have three and a half weeks."

"Yes."

"Would you also like a unicorn?" He suddenly spat, as he made a face. "Less than a month isn't enough time. I need blueprints, information on their system, employees, deliveries- "

"I have information." Brushing past him as she flung her closet doors open, Charlie pulled out a black plastic tote, then a green one, followed by a blue one. "When I first found out about the stupid cure, and how the insurance company refused to pay for it, I felt helpless and needed to do something. I know you'll find this stupid, but I guess I thought with enough information I could figure out a way to get into that fortress of a building, grab a vile, and sneak off. Logically? I knew I never could do it, but fooled myself by thinking with just a little more intel, I'd figure out their Achilles heel."

"That's a lot of information." Eyeing the totes, Leonard let out a long shrill whistle.

"I had a lot of time on my hands, and anger to burn through." Tucking her hair behind her ear, Charlie threw open the lid on the blue tote, and dug around. "Their Christmas party is in two weeks."

"So."

"It's the closest thing I ever found to an Achilles heel." Pulling out a packet of papers, she held them out to him, and made the mistake of meeting his eyes head on. It felt as though he was seeing right into her soul, and it made her feel naked and vulnerable. Finally, after an eternity, he took the packet and let his eyes drop to the pages.

"Very interesting." Deep in thought, his eyes scanning the words on the page, he frowned a few times as he took a step back, then another until he could sit on the edge of the bed. "The only problem, this is from two years ago."

"I know." Fidgeting now, looking ashamed, Charlie found it impossible to look him in the eye. "Where I work . . . I occasionally bump into a few of the company's employees."

"You mean the stripclub where you dance." Leonard clarified blandly, his eyes still reading through the pages. "If you can't say it, you shouldn't be doing it."

Shooting him a glance, she folded her arms across her chest and instantly wanted to punch him in the face when he smirked. "Anyways, one of them complained that the Christmas party was the same every year. The person in charge hates the job and doesn't change anything up."

"You got this all on your own?" Looking at the totes, then back at her, Leonard dropped the papers onto the bed and grabbed her by the arm.

Not sure why he suddenly looked so serious, Charlie struggled to keep up with the conversation. "Yes – well besides the information . . . from the employees."

"And no one else knows you've got any of this?"

"No one."

Letting her go, he took a step back, put his hands on his hips and stared up at the ceiling. "You're sure you don't want the unicorn?"

"Positive."

"Fine." Snapping his head back down and staring at her intently, he held up a hand. "On one condition."

"What?"

"I'm gonna need help." Reading the confusion on her face, he smirked. "If I had time, I'd keep you far from this thing, you being an innocent novice and all that, but a few weeks?" Leonard shook his head. "No can do. You've got the intel, probably more than we'll ever need. You want me to steal your Gram's cure before the end of the year, it's gonna be all hands-on deck."

"How?" Charlie demanded. "Between taking care of my Gram, my little sister and working at night, I have zero free time. I have to be here, not running off."

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her it wasn't his problem, but something made him stop. Maybe it was the dark circles around her eyes, or the shadows staring back at him, but Leonard contemplated the options before him. "Fine, I'm feeling charitable. I'll come here. It makes the most sense if you think about it."

"Absolutely not!" Charlie laughed. "My Grams already thinks you've 'come-a-calling'."

"Does she now?" The smirk slithered over his mouth, and Charlie could swear his eyes nearly sparkled. "Then we'll just let her keep thinking it. Gives me a reason to be here."

"No."

"You sure? I am a catch – or so I've been told."

"No."

"I've had I my shots."

"Gross, and still no." Charlie stomped her foot. "This may sound stupid to you, but that woman upstairs raised me and my sister. She doesn't deserve to be lied to like that, to have her weakness from being sick exploited. I owe it to her."

"It's either this, or you need to come up with a new favor." Leonard responded with zero trace of any humor. "We could just tell her the truth. I'm a wanted criminal, you've got healing powers and swing around a pole at night for tips, and together we're gonna steal her a cure? I'm okay with that too."

"You're being serious."

"I owe you a life debt, what better way to pay it back than to repay it with a life?" He waited silently for a minute, letting her comb through all her options. "So, what's it gonna be? Will you go steady with me, or do you want the magical unicorn?"

"I'm so going to regret this." Closing her eyes at his sudden glee, Charlie heard her Gram call for dinner at the top of the stairs.

"After you pumpkin."

"Oh bite me."


End file.
